


Caleb's Odyssey

by AnnaBolena



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Ben and Caleb, I perish, I pine, M/M, Oblivious gay revolutionaries, Yes homo, angsty fluff, including greek drama because I am pretentious af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-26 13:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14402673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaBolena/pseuds/AnnaBolena
Summary: Please, Caleb prays again, only ever praying for Benjamin’s soul and not his. Please, bring him back to me and I vow never to take your name in vain again.a.k.a Caleb has many firsts and Ben recommends good literature





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the product of my incessant need to procrastinate. These two will not leave me alone. Rip my degree, it was nice to think of obtaining you haha

The first time Caleb realizes that he loves Ben goes like this:

Caleb is nineteen and due to depart with a whaling crew come sunrise. Ben is twelve and knocking at his window with surprising fortitude, considering the storm raging on outside. When Caleb finally opens the window to let him in, Ben’s clothes are drenched and he is shaking like a leaf. His teeth chatter as he looks up at Caleb expectantly.  
"What are you doing here, Tallboy? I thought we’d already said our goodbyes," he jokes. Ben nods, rounded cheeks and peering eyes suddenly serious.

"I know."

  
For a moment Ben is silent. As he gathers the courage to speak Caleb can’t help but smile at the little boy he has known for so long. "Whaling is dangerous. I overheard you telling Sammy that men can die in the blink of an eye out at sea."

"Are you worried about me?" Caleb teases, but the knowledge that he occupies Ben’s thoughts sits well with him. He thinks he could most happily live there, in Ben’s beautiful mind. "I’m a tough little nut, Bennyboy, this won’t be the last you see of me."

"I know," Ben says again, "But I wanted to give you this anyway." He holds out his hand and with it a small, delicate chain that Caleb immediately recognizes as the cross necklace Ben’s mother Susannah left for him when she passed.

"Ben," Caleb manages to get out, awed by the gesture, "I know what that means to you, I can’t possibly accept it."

"You have to," Ben insists, a little fiercer than Caleb is used to. "It is the only way I can think of that my prayers will reach you."

  
And Caleb is nineteen, hard-bitten and roguish and rough around the edges, but right now his heart feels softer than pudding. Ben urges the necklace into his hand, his own hands still clammy and cold from the storm, and smiles. Caleb smiles back automatically, a little unsteadied by the storm of emotions inside of him. „Thank you,“ he says.

  
Ben’s smile wobbles a little as he hugs Caleb goodbye. "Come back safe," he insists as the window closes behind him.  
Caleb Brewster is left behind in his room, dumbfounded and struck down by the realization that this little boy is closest kin to him. He might not put much stake in the good man above the clouds, but he recognizes Ben's gesture for what it is. Ben's faith is so unwavering and so deeply embedded in his core that his offer to pray for Caleb is the most important thing he can send Caleb off to sea with.  
He leaves the next morning, necklace tucked tight beneath his neckerchief, warm and reassuring against his skin.

+

The first time Caleb realizes how much he misses Benjamin Tallmadge is after they lose the first man of the season, only two weeks into his adventure. He is old and seasoned, the veteran of at least twelve years with this crew, perhaps more with other crews. Perhaps it would have been easier to swallow if one of the younger men, still green, had been caught up in the heavy rope and dragged to the harsh blue depths. This shouldn't rationally happen to an expert, but it does and Caleb learns not to trust in rationality so much, not out at sea.  
It happens so quickly that Caleb doesn’t even register the accident until the men scream at him to hold on tight. The beast is wounded, but still alive enough to wreck their tiny boats if it chooses to try. He barely catches a flash of greying hair, and then there is nothing but the man’s hat, tumbling about on the turbulent waves. There’s a spray of cold water that makes Caleb’s face freeze and then the men rally to bring to an end their quest.

  
Later that night Caleb sits on the deck of their larger sloop, seeing to the smaller whaleboats and checking how badly the beast damaged them today. The sky is clear tonight and beneath a plethora of stars he unclasps the delicate chain around his neck to look upon it.  
The spray of seawater has formed a crust around the metal that he scratches off carefully. Are you there, he wonders. Are you praying for me? Have you forgotten about Caleb Brewster yet? Conscious of the fact that he doesn’t have much credit with the Almighty, Caleb begins to pray nonetheless. He isn't praying for himself. Surely if the lord is good he will look after the faithful servant that Caleb pleads for?  
Let Benjamin Tallmadge be alright, he prays. Caleb knows how fickle life is. He could return to Setauket come the new year and find the little boy struck down by sickness or sheer bad luck. Protect him, he prays to the sky, for my sake. I want to see him again, he pleads. I know it is selfish, he confesses, but I need him to be alright.

+

Caleb makes port on Long Island after half a year of adventures. It isn't far from Setauket, he could reasonably make the trip to his hometown for a day or two. After a word with the captain and a sly question whether someone is back home longing for him that leaves him stuttering a little he is on his way.  
He finds Ben, now thirteen, reading in front of his father’s church. The boy jumps up excitedly when he sees Caleb coming and rushes to embrace him. Something in Caleb’s chest tightens, but his grin is genuine when he crushes Ben against him. His hands reach up to feel the beard Caleb has grown, claiming that he likes it. Caleb decides then and there to keep it.

  
“I missed you terribly,” Ben confesses, when Caleb has seated himself next to him. The sun bears down on them in these first warm days of spring. Already he sees a hint of red on Ben’s face, tinged so by the warming rays brought by a change in temperature.

“Ah,” Caleb grins, “I missed you too. When I had the time.” Which, coincidentally, was all the time, but Caleb conveniently neglects to mention it.  
Ben is eager to listen to all of Caleb’s stories, eyes wide and mouth gaping. Only after he has exhausted every tale does Ben reveal that he was accepted to go to Yale.

“Father won’t send me yet. He claims I’m still too young.”

  
“Bet you’re still smarter than those posh bastards already,” Caleb tries to ruffle Ben’s hair, who ducks out of the way with what Caleb assumes is supposed to be a menacing glare. “What are you reading there, Tallboy?”  
“Homer,” Ben explains, “It is called the Odyssey. I think you’d like it.”

“Yeah?” Caleb wonders, not very well-read and not particularly interested in the stilted tone these classics often make use of. “Read some to me then,” he suggests, closing his eyes to listen. Caleb does like it, likes the aspects of sailing and most importantly, likes Ben’s voice as he reads to him. His voice hasn’t deepened yet, though he suspects the change will soon be upon him as it occasionally sounds just the tiniest bit scratchy.  
When Caleb makes port in New Haven a few months later he finds a copy of the Odyssey and purchases it. Another thing to remind him that he has someone waiting for him at home. It may not be a bonny lass, but Caleb thinks Benjamin is just as swell. What is a woman’s touch compared to such a deep friendship? They are kin, Caleb knows it in his heart. 

(Admittedly, he can get his fill of a woman’s touch in any port. News of Ben are harder to acquire and he holds on tightly to whatever snippets he can get. Samuel doesn’t mention enough about him in the letters he sometimes sends.)

Once Caleb finishes the book he privately thinks himself somewhat of an Odysseus, navigating the stormy seas and overcoming any challenge that whaling throws at him. Where Ben factors into all this he isn't quite sure, but the more he thinks about it the more he becomes a representation of Penelope in his head, steadfastly waiting and unfailingly loyal. Ben is the hope that keeps Caleb going. Ben will never prove false to Caleb. Ben will be waiting.

+

It takes Caleb another two years to make his way back to Setauket. By now Caleb has seen London and far more of the world than he thought he ever would.  
When he arrives, it is Samuel who greets him, instead of little Bennyboy. It seems Reverend Tallmadge was finally persuaded to send the apple of his eye to Yale. Caleb tries not to let his disappointment show, though he is proud of the little boy.  
He pens his first letter to him. Caleb was never much of a writer, though he did well-enough in school. When he spends too much time thinking about what he wants to say instead of actually saying it, it unnerves him. When Caleb has a chance to consider his words carefully he often loses his confidence in them. There are many things he wants to write to Ben. He wants to tell him how terribly he missed him, how much he was looking forward to strolling into the Tallmadge house and pulling him into his arms, how much it tore at his heart to hear he had packed up and left.

He doesn't write anything like that. Instead he happily recounts some of the things that happened to him and asks Ben to do the same.

It takes a week for the reply to reach Setauket. Caleb tucks the letter into his waistcoat, pens a reply, and sets off to sea again.

+

The first time Caleb realizes the love he bears for Benjamin Tallmadge is not as innocent as he presumed it to be happens like this:

Caleb visits Benjamin in New Haven. Ben is seventeen and it has been years since they’ve last seen each other. Back then Ben was a scrappy little boy, perhaps a bit full in the face.  
Now he stands before him, as tall as a tree and surprisingly sturdy on his feet. His hair is long, tied back with a black ribbon and he looks more like a man than Caleb ever imagined. But what really takes the whaler by surprise is his friend’s voice. It is deep now, calmer than he remembers. When he was younger Ben's voice was always laced with excitement. The years have cooled his temper somewhat. The cadence of his voice is so terribly pleasing that Caleb tries to commit every word to memory for when he once more inevitably finds himself looking at the stars on the deck of a ship, praying for Ben's health and happiness.

“Welcome back, Caleb,” Ben draws him into a good-natured hug. Caleb has never before picked up on Ben’s smell, but now it surprises him too. It is the middle of the day during a particularly hot summer so sweat has soaked through Ben’s shirt, but it doesn’t smell bad. No, to Caleb it smells more like home than anything else. Another thing to add to his memory. Caleb erects a space in his head dedicated to Ben where he collects every detail he can.  
They go out for drinks at a tavern and the barmaid dotes on Ben, smiling at him almost shyly when she sees him come in. Ben comes in here often, he explains, usually with his friends Nathan and Enoch, who are out of town for the week to visit their father. But despite the barmaid’s advances Ben remains chaste, blushing when she steps a little too close or when she leans forward a little too provocatively to be coincidental. Caleb is willing to bet that Ben isn’t refusing on his account, because most probably the girl has tried her luck with him more than a few times.  
They talk for hours and Caleb watches in fascination as Ben passionately recounts his fondest memories of Yale. He debates, most recently for women's rights to education, he fences, he excels in class but Ben is a far cry from the perfect preacher's son he used to be. He doesn't get fined for missing services, he wouldn't do that. But he has lost a bit of coin due to illicit nighttime activities that lead to what the school called wanton destruction of Yale property. "A doorknob came off, that's all," Ben grins when Caleb enquires further. Caleb almost doesn't want to have his turn to speak, so much does he enjoy listening to Ben.

Later, when they’re in Ben’s room, Caleb asks him why he didn’t take the chance with the barmaid. “Yes, she was very pretty, wasn’t she?” Ben asks, almost as if looking for reassurance. “I haven’t seen a finer girl in any tavern so far,” Caleb nods. Ben smiles a little private smile but gives no further answer besides a shrug and a half-hearted promise that he doesn't intend to remain a virgin until he dies.

They’re both inebriated and therefore decide to retire to bed.

Caleb offers to take the floor but Ben dismisses him out of hand, lifting the blanket for him to slip under. At first Caleb doesn’t think twice about it. They fall asleep easily. But then he finds himself waking in the middle of the night, wrapped around Ben like a coat and painfully hard beneath the blanket.

Ben, for his part, sleeps with astounding tranquility, lips parted almost seductively and long lashes caressing his cheeks. His hair is open and spread around him like a slightly askew halo, stray strands falling into his face a little. It is blasphemous, but to Caleb he looks like paradise, like salvation.  
The sight overwhelms Caleb, who doesn’t quite understand why his heart is hammering in his chest as if begging to be let out. Ben is not just a warm body to him, a short stop in a cold room to unwind. Ben is his closest friend and the only person that Caleb misses with such ferocity it sometimes chokes him up when he is at sea, reading beautifully written letters that mean the world to him by the light of a flickering candle. Ben is Ben, beautiful and innocent and so entirely good that Caleb is ashamed of the way his body longs to tarnish that innocence.  
Ben stirs awake a few hours later to find Caleb sitting at the window, perusing his edition of the Odyssey. For the first time since he has known Ben, Caleb is ashamed to look at him with desire still coursing through his veins.

+

The letters continue as Caleb takes to the sea again, this time to escape his growing affection for Ben. Caleb knows what it is that torments him. He has witnessed it often enough between sailors that scoot closer together in the dead of the night, trying to be quiet while satisfying urges that can no longer be contained. He doesn’t want that for Ben. The letters are safe, for while they only strengthen Caleb’s love for Ben they do so at an acceptable distance.  
Still, Caleb is forced to attend to the vexing appendage that lusts for his best friend. He tries to avoid thinking of Ben as he takes himself in hand. A letter waits for him at one of their regular ports six months into this adventure in which Ben laments his continued absence. Ben's letters are always beautiful, his prose so effortlessly elegant that Caleb often keenly feels the discreprancy in their respective educations. But this one includes a quote that Caleb recognizes, a rare occasion.

'Yet the evil is endurable, when one cries through the days, with heart constantly troubled, yet still is taken by sleep in the nights; for sleep is oblivion of all things, both good and evil, when it has shrouded the eyelids.' It is Homer, otherwise Caleb would not have recognized it. More importantly, they are Penelope's words. Just for one night, Caleb allows himself the fantasy of coming to Ben as a husband would. He is not hopeless enough to think that Ben recognizes the weight of his words. Ben cannot know what he does to Caleb by quoting her to him.

His guilt in the days to come makes him feel dirty. He washes his right hand at least seven times before he dares to touch Ben's necklace with it again.

 

Months later, his uncle writes to humbly ask for his help with the apple orchard. Caleb doesn’t have it in him to refuse, so he returns to America.

+

The first time Caleb almost kisses Ben goes like this:

Benjamin Tallmadge graduates from Yale in 1773 and comes back to Setauket as a teacher. He refused a post in Connecticut to be closer to his family, he explains when Caleb asks him about it. Ben is nineteen now, the same age that Caleb was when he first left Setauket.  
Now Caleb watches him sit at the strong oak desk, worrying his lower lip as he hastily pens a letter. Clad in well-fitting clothes with one stray strand of hair tumbling out of his braid he makes a fine sight. He stands to hug Caleb when he greets him with a casual ‘alright there, Tallboy?’ and Caleb feels the pull of firm muscle when they touch. Ben is so overwhelmingly close that Caleb has to forcibly stop himself from deeply inhaling his comforting scent.

They go to the creek behind Lucas Brewster’s property and watch the sun set as they share the wine Ben received from his father to congratulate him on his new teaching post.  
“Don’t know if I’m a fan of this, to be honest,” Caleb ponders after he takes a few sips.

“Me neither,” Ben agrees, scrunching up his nose.  
“But since it’s free,” Caleb shrugs, almost empties the bottle and grins at Ben, “I’ll take what I can get.”

Hours later the stars have come out and they are on their backs, side by side. “You know, Tallboy, whenever times got rough on board, I would look at the stars and imagine you were right there, praying for my sorry soul.” It is the wine that has loosened his tongue like this. Not enough to say what he really wants to say, but more innocent confessions slip out.  
Ben, at first unsure if Caleb is teasing him or if this admission is genuine, offers a shy but encouraging smile. “Helped me a great deal, you know, to imagine that someone was there, thinking of me.”  
“I was,” Ben admits good-naturedly, “Thinking of you, that is.”  
For a second there, Caleb thinks Tallboy might be blushing, but it is hard to tell with only the moon to cast a light upon them. He feels the grass tickle his hand a bit as Ben moves it aside to touch his fingers to Caleb’s experimentally.  
“Oh really?” Caleb grins, turning onto his side. Ben’s eyes are staring at their hands, his fingers ghosting across the calloused skin tenderly. Caleb thinks he sees him nod. “I think about you all the time, Caleb.” The heart in Caleb Brewster's chest stops for a second. Then it restarts in double-time.  
“How on earth did you manage to graduate then?” The whaler laughs, trying to lighten the mood because the way Ben is talking is quite dangerously making his head spin. Ben laughs, a sound Caleb adores beyond reason, and interlaces their fingers firmly. “When I say all the time, Caleb, that does count as a hyperbole.”  
“How disappointing,” Caleb jokes.

“But in all seriousness, Brewster.” Ben’s voice drops to a whisper, close to a confession Caleb longs to hear and at the same time cannot bear to witness. “I thought about you every single day. It was nerve-wracking to be ignorant of whether you were alive or dead, or if you would ever come back.”  
“I wrote to you,” Caleb tries to convey light-heartedness when in reality he is close to hyperventilating.

“Those letters were in short-supply, but rest assured I treasured every single word.” He can't have, not the way Caleb did. Ben's letters, sometimes pages long, are memorized word for word in Caleb's head.

"I'm sorry Tallboy. I'll try to write more often."

"I don't expect you to, you know? Life at sea doesn't leave much time to put pen to paper."

"For a friend with an understanding heart is worth no less than a brother" Caleb grins.

"Homer again," Ben smiles as he recognizes the words.

"It is the only book I can quote. I am milking it for all it is worth," Caleb laughs loudly. Ben joins in. "I have got to give you something else to read." His voice is light still, but Caleb senses something else secreted away amongst the undertones of his words. His voice is husky, just the tiniest hint of desire. But Caleb might as well be imagining it. It must be the wine.

In the dark Caleb feels Ben let go of his hand. The short burst of unreasonable disappointment turns to nervousness when he feels that same hand trail up his arm and over his shoulder, finally cupping his cheek tenderly. Ben’s thumb strokes his cheek and Caleb sucks in a sharp breath. The touch feels too good to be true, so tender and careful yet leaving his skin aflame. “Ben,” he begins hoarsely, wanting to lean forward and into the touch. In the dark he hears Ben exhale softly. He doesn’t know how but he feels him lean forward, closer until they share a single breath and he thinks he can almost taste his lips.

A sudden roll of thunder yanks them apart and Caleb comes back to his senses as the sky opens up above them. The moment ends, the imminent kiss drifts out of reach.

Along with his next letter Ben has enclosed a new book, claiming he thinks Caleb will enjoy it. Boccaccio's The Decameron is an entertaining read that amuses Caleb, but he still finds himself reading the Odyssey over and over again. When he admits so in his next reply, Ben coaxes him with another one of Homer's works. Ben is tenacious in cultivating Caleb's sense for literature. Over time, as Caleb's confidence in his words grows, so do his letters, to Ben's tremendous enjoyment.

+

The first time Caleb hears that Ben loves him too goes like this:

War has changed the both of them beyond words. Their bond has strengthened, their trust in each other grown as they fight side by side, placing their life into the other’s hands.  
From the loss of Ben's friend Nathan through the loss of Samuel to more injuries than either man is happy with they remain together. Ben is his constant. His north star. The only fixture to help him navigate the stormy waters of war. His Penelope, Caleb thinks then tries to forget about it again.  
When his dragoons ride out to rendez-vous with Charles Lee, Caleb lets him leave with a joke about Lee’s dogs on his lips. Ben is laughing as he mounts his horse, bathed in sunlight and resplendent in blue and gold. The sight still takes Caleb’s breath away just as effectively as it did the first time.

Caleb hears the messenger gallop into camp, all panicked eyes and heavy breaths. A boy, no older than thirteen, sweat-dampened forehead and blood clumping his hair together.  
Ambush, Caleb thinks he can make out, Queen’s rangers, no survivors.

For twelve entire hours, Caleb’s whole world has come to an end. He loses himself in the bottle to destroy misplaced hope that somehow, Ben might have made it. In his delirium, he takes out the chain that is still around his neck after so many years. He should have given it back to Ben, he thinks as tears spring to his eyes. What need does Caleb have of it now that he is no longer at sea? Might it have protected Ben? He can't breathe, his chest is so painfully tight he thinks it might burst. The pain is unbearable, weighing him down and forcing him to stuff a fist in his mouth to keep from screaming, tears burning their paths down his dust-covered skin.

Please, Caleb prays again, only ever praying for Benjamin’s soul and not his own. Please, bring him back to me and I vow never to take your name in vain again.  
The sun has long gone down when the sentries grow loud about an approaching figure. Awed whispers travel through the ranks as Caleb rushes to General Scott’s quarters to see if it can possibly be true. He spends half an hour anxiously pacing outside the door as he strains to listen to the voices inside. Torn between allowing the slight spark of hope to soothe his heart and not wanting to be destroyed once more should his hopes prove false, he thinks it will not be long before he loses his mind entirely. The guards outside raise their eyebrows at him but do not comment. Caleb and Ben’s friendship is well-known amongst the men. Like brothers, everybody always smiles. Destined to be side by side from cradle to grave, it seems.

Finally, the door opens and the weight of a million tons falls off Caleb’s chest at once. Ben, alive. Injured and limping, exhausted and worn, but alive. Blue eyes lock onto brown ones and silently Caleb says his thanks, to whoever listened to his desperate pleas. Caleb almost confesses his undying love then and there. The words die in his throat when he sees how broken Ben's eyes are.  
How must it feel, to lose your entire patrol? All those boys, gone before their time. Perhaps, for tonight, Caleb will be the steadfast Penelope to Ben's battered Odysseus.

Ben leans onto him as they limp back to their tent.  
During the night he grows restless, whimpering in his sleep and fidgeting. Caleb sits on his bedside, pressing a damp cloth to his forehead. He can’t help himself, though he tries to avoid any unnecessary caresses. As the night progresses he relents, allowing himself the small luxury of touching Ben’s cheek with considerable tenderness. Caleb almost lost him today. Those hours, those terrifying hours he spent under the impression that he might have lost Ben have left their mark on Caleb. He is a nervous wreck, torn between wanting to burst into tears and wanting to pull Ben into his arms and never letting him leave again.

As Caleb removes his hand Ben’s own hand stops him, covering it and keeping it in place. Ben’s pleased exhale shakes Caleb to his core. “Caleb,” he hears Ben murmur distantly, the sound numbed by the blood pounding in Caleb’s ears. “I’m right here, Bennyboy,” Caleb whispers, stroking Ben’s cheek. Ben repeats his name, like a little mantra. “Sleep, delicious and profound, the very counterfeit of death.”  
Ben laughs, a little feverish. "I should have never given you that book, I don't think I'll hear the end of it until I truly am dead." Caleb doesn't know to respond so he just squeezes Ben's hand.

Then, so quiet he almost misses it, Ben says it.  
“I love you, Caleb Brewster.” Ben’s eyes are closed as he says it, voice low and struggling through the obvious pain in his shoulder. Caleb freezes. “I love you so much.”  
Before Caleb can regain control of a mind rapidly spinning out of bounds Ben has succumbed to sleep again.

+

The first time Caleb kisses Ben it goes like this:

The lights of General Cornwallis’ camp make up for the lack of stars in a cloudy sky. After spending most of the night making enough noise to pass for an entire army the two of them retreat into the forest. Ben is still weak from his stunt in the water so they stop every couple of minutes to let him hack his lungs out. Caleb places a soothing hand on his back whenever he does.

 

“You’re going to give me a heart attack eventually if you keep being so reckless,” Caleb tells Ben with a wry little smile.

  
"Empty words are evil," Ben jokes.

 

"And yet you chastise me for quoting that damn book so much."

  
Ben laughs, a little tersely. They keep walking.

“How do you think my heart feels when you fight your way across the Sound like a madman? You risk your life daily, you must accept that I will do the same. Besides, we really needed that swivel gun,” Ben retorts, breaking the silence. He clears his throat loudly, preparing for another coughing fit.

“Maybe so, Bennyboy, but I don’t think you know just what you do to me,” Caleb mutters.  
Ben laughs again, a strained sound that betrays how weakened he still is.  
“Caleb, do you remember when I got shot?”  
Caleb’s heart starts beating faster. Of course he remembers, how could he not? “Do I remember the worst day of my life thus far?”

“Do you remember what I told you that night?”

“Pardon?” Caleb stops abruptly, face flushing at the memory. Ben comes to a halt as well, brow furrowed. “I was so certain I said it out loud. Perhaps I just imagined it.”  
“I heard some things,” Caleb admits. “You said my name.”

“When I woke up in a puddle of mud and blood, waiting for Roger’s man to come and bayonet me, your name kept on flashing in my head,” Ben reveals, face serious. “It kept going, steadier than my heartbeat. It was only because of you that I resolved to push my luck and kill him. I wanted to get back to you.”

Caleb has his back turned to Ben, fists clenched and shaking. He feels Ben step closer, feels Ben’s hand on his shoulder tenderly. “Once upon a time I told you that to say I think about you all the time was a hyperbole, do you remember that?”

Caleb does, as well as he remembers a night rife with possibility destroyed by a surprising storm. He covers Ben’s hand with his own, squeezing reassuringly. Ben steps closer, close enough for Caleb to feel his breath, hot on his neck.  
“It wasn’t an exaggeration. Not then, not now. You are never out of my mind, Caleb. You are the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I sleep. I dream of you. I dream of you every single night. There is not a second in the day when you are from my mind. Do you understand, Caleb?”

Caleb shivers, leans back into Ben unconsciously as Ben hugs him tightly. Ben’s lips ghost over his ear. “I love you,” he confesses to the night, voice breaking. “And before you say you love me too, you should know that I don’t mean I love you like I would love a brother. I am sorry if this is too much for you to bear, I understand if-“

“Ben,” Caleb interrupts, voice pathetically hoarse and pleading. Caleb is weak, slumping against Ben as his heart gives out. Ben’s arms wrap around him tightly as the younger man burrows his head into Caleb’s neck. Goosebumps break out across Caleb’s body. Ben loves him. Ben loves him. Ben is conscious and awake and he loves him.

“Ben, I love you. I adore you. I would give my life in an instant for you.” Caleb rushes out, whispering while he does not trust his voice to break. He hears Ben’s breath catch, feels him swallow heavily. Hands strong with purpose, Ben turns Caleb around to look at him. He looks up into Ben’s eyes, surprised to see tears reflect in those impossibly deep pools of blue. Caleb smiles on a shaky exhale, reaches up to wipe a spilled tear away with his thumb. “Stop crying, Benny, it seems to me this is a happy occasion.”  
“Shut up,” Ben laughs, blinking to get rid of the tears. Caleb smiles and pulls himself up to kiss Ben.  
It isn’t like he expected. Ben’s lips are salty and Caleb is reminded of the sea and the way it is caught in his beloved’s eyes. Ben sighs and pulls him in tighter, opening his lips to invite more of Caleb into him. Caleb’s head spins and he uses Ben to steady himself. He needs Ben's support, he doesn't trust his knees not to give out right now. He is weak in the face of what he has wanted for years. Kissing Ben is like coming home at last. Despite the war that rages around them, Caleb's toils and troubles have come to an end.

When they break away, Caleb is surprised to find tears rolling down his cheek. Ben kisses them away softly.  
“Happy occasion,” Ben chastises teasingly, “You would do well to remember that.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben has some firsts regarding Caleb as well

The first time Benjamin Tallmadge realizes that he loves Caleb Brewster happens when he is only a small, seven year old child and it goes like this:

 

Caleb is fourteen and adventurous, even more so than Ben's big brother Samuel. Ben spends endless evenings on the porch of the Tallmadge home waiting for them to come back, mud-streaked and roughed up. Ben's mother is reluctant to let Ben wander off too far with them. Usually Ben is alright staying behind with her, tickling the swelling belly she takes care of. "Your little brother or sister is in there, Benjamin," she tells him gently, smiling when Ben starts conversing with the bump excitedly.

"And we'll be the bestest of friends, trust me. I'll introduce you to Sammy, he'll be your oldest brother, and Caleb. He'll be almost like your brother, too. Only he isn't. But kind of. He's always around and he is awesome. Really fun." An endless stream of words flows from Ben's mouth and Susannah is glad that for once Ben is talking and not just listening.  
Susannah smiles at her youngest, so innocent and vulnerable. But she also notices with some anxiety how Ben's attention will focus solely on Caleb the second he appears in the picture. Her boy admires the young Brewster. The second he hears his voice Ben's excitement turns into disturbing quiet. Bright blue eyes will look at Caleb like no one else exists. No one else has a similar effect on her youngest son and it worries her. Sometimes she worries that Ben's gentle soul will leave him dead before his time, if not by a noose then by heartbreak.  
"Hiya there, Bennyboy," Caleb greets Ben with pinch to the cheek. Ben protests, but is won over by the prospect of listening to Caleb's account of today's mischief. Samuel gets bored quickly of indulging his little brother, but Caleb sits on the porch with Ben for hours after the sun has gone down, gesturing wildly as Susannah's little boy lies on his stomach, looking up at Caleb like he hung the moon. In a different world, the sight might make Susannah very happy. 

Ben pleads with Susannah to let him join them, just for one day. Eventually she relents, lecturing Samuel for almost an hour to take care of him. Sammy is still a child as well, and it might be an unfair burden to put Ben in his charge, but she needs both of her sons alive. She isn't sure that Ben knows how to take care of himself yet. He is too trusting, too kind, too gentle, too excited. The world is far too cruel to leave him so for too long. The day he learns that is one she tries to postpone for as long as possible. Her husband is of a different opinion, encouraging Ben, even going as far as to say it would do the boy some good to get a little roughed up once or twice. Caleb protests that he would never let that happen as Sammy agrees with his father. 

Ben doesn't leave Caleb's side for a second, doesn't even take his eyes off Caleb except to blink. Caleb relishes the attention. Sammy grows annoyed and leaves them to play with the Woodhull boys. Ben grows a little worried, but Caleb strokes his hair gently and tells him that it'll be alright. "I'm here, aren't I? You've got nothing to worry about, Tallboy," Caleb grins.  
"He is going to get in trouble if something happens to me, especially if he ran off," Ben chews on his lower lip, staring after a slowly disappearing Samuel.  
"Nothing is going to happen, Benny," Caleb puts a hand on the little boy's shoulder to urge him on, deeper into the forest where Caleb and Samuel have spent weeks making a little hideaway. It is hidden in one of Setauket's many coves, between thicket and tightly-packed trees. The lack of expertise is evident in the way it is built, but Ben admires it nonetheless.

"We haven't got a name for it yet," Caleb admits as he gives Ben an extensive tour of the shelter. "But it is our castle."

"Are you the king of it?" Ben wonders, wide-eyed. Caleb laughs. "Of course I am. Sammyboy is my royal advisor."

"Who's your queen?" The little boy wants to know. 

"My queen?" Caleb repeats, scratching his chin. He hadn't thought about that yet. "Haven't got one yet, I suppose," he admits, a bit sheepishly. And Ben wants to cry out 'I will be your queen!', but that is silly so he doesn't say it. Boys can't be queens, not to someone like Caleb. Kings are ordained by god and even at his young age Ben has heard that if two men are to each other what a queen is to a king they are frowned upon by God. Ben knows that he should please god through his thoughts and actions, and he wants to. He prays to him every single night, lengthy conversations that help him process each day. They give him hope. 

So he doesn't admit it to Caleb or to God, but Ben does think that he would dearly like to rule at Caleb's side. It stays a secret. But Ben knows that eventually Caleb will have to find a Queen. Every King needs one. Why should Caleb's reign be different?

(Ben tries to ignore the fact that God already knows, if he really is all-knowing like his father says. Ben tries to gain his forgiveness by praying more ardently.)

 

+

 

Some years later Caleb has grown up and doesn't run off to the castle with Sammy anymore. He gifts it to Benny on a poor excuse for a deed, scrawled in somewhat sloppy handwriting. It is the closest that either one of them has come to an official document. Ben loves it. 

The little castle in the forest becomes his recluse. He spends hours in there, reading and escaping into a thousand different worlds. Ben inserts himself into these stories, he escapes into them.

_He is Romeo, He is Isolde, He is Paris, He is Achilles, He is Heloise or Guinevere, He is Fiametta, He is Dante, He is Enide, He is Edward the fourth, He is Gareth, He is Justinian._

And inveritably, Caleb remains front and center in his mind. Caleb invades his head as pervasively as he does his life.

_Caleb is Juliet, Caleb is Tristan, Caleb is Helen, Caleb is Patrocles, Caleb is Abelard or Arthur, Caleb is Boccaccio, Caleb is Beatrice, he is Erec, he is Elizabeth Woodville, he is Lynette, Caleb is Theodora._

It doesn't seem to matter what book Ben picks up. It doesn't matter if the story ends in tragedy or happiness. Caleb is in it. Caleb is by his side and he is by his. He goes through more books than he can count, raiding his father's library at night and returning the finished tome by morning.

Eventually Ben starts avoiding the stories with happy endings for a while. They remind him too keenly of what he will never have. The tragedies do his feelings more justice.

At night he prays fervently, begging God to tell him why these feelings are wrong. 

 

+

  
One book in particular resonates with Ben. The Odyssey, by a greek author named Homer. His father insisted on procuring a Greek copy of it for Ben. "You will do well to practice some of the language before you ever get to Yale." Nathanael Tallmadge is a good man but a demanding father.

Armed with a dictionary to translate and some provisions, Ben holes up in the shelter to get lost in yet another story. For a while Ben tested the hypothesis of whether or not Caleb appeared in every story because he spent his time reading in here, in Caleb's first gift to him. That would have been a convenient and innocent excuse. But it didn't seem to matter where he read, when he read, much less what he read. 

He doesn't notice how long he spends in there until a worried-looking Caleb bursts in unannounced, hair a mess and sweaty, hatchet on his belt and waistcoat undone. "Oh thank the heavens," Caleb sighs. "You had us scared half to death there, Bennyboy. Your mother is worried sick." Caleb pulls Ben into his arms, and Ben's heart hammers against his ribcage happily.

"I'm sorry," he gets up, calmly, "I got lost in my head." Ben feels guilty. Susannah is already ailing. She lost the little bump Ben loved talking to after a few months and never fully recovered. In recent weeks sickness has overwhelmed her, leaving her bed-ridden and weak.

"That is all well and good, Tallboy, but next time just let someone know where you are, even if it's just me, yeah?." Caleb pats his cheek, looking at him sternly. It upsets Ben to see his mother in bed, too weak to get up for longer than a few minutes, hair dampened, sticking to a sweat-sheathed wan forehead.

Caleb takes Ben by the hand and leads him back home. The feeling of holding Caleb's hand gives Ben some of the strength back he thought he lost by being scared.

+

  
Ben runs to the tavern to tell Sammy to come home, that mother is sicker than ever before, that she has asked for him as well as her last rites. He stops when he spots Caleb, pressing a soft figure into the side of the barn and drawing sounds from her that Ben has only ever heard from his parents' room. His cheeks burn when the sounds grow more obvious and louder.

The girl, whoever she is, has a hand between Caleb's legs and when Ben hears Caleb groan he wants to tell her to stop hurting him. Instead he yells Caleb's name. The older boy detaches from a somewhat disappointed looking fair-haired girl and runs his hand over his face a few times. His cheeks are red, his eyes are glassy and he looks uncomfortable. But when he sees Ben's tear streaked face he crouches down immediately to ask him what is wrong, wiping his tears away tenderly, taking out a soiled handkerchief to wipe the snot from Ben's nose. "Where's Sammy?" Ben wonders.

"I don't know, Benny, but we'll go look for him, yeah?"

Sniffling, Ben nods and hands Caleb back the handkerchief, who pockets it with a bit of a cringe. Ben never suspects, until years later, that there might have been other, less savory fluids on that piece of fabric.

"Who was that girl?" Ben's eyes follow her once Caleb sends her away.

"Selah Strong's youngest sister," Caleb admits with a sly grin. "She's very pretty, yeah?" Ben doesn't really know, he hardly saw her face and even if he did, it wouldn't matter if he thought she was pretty. Caleb thinks she is. That seems to be enough.

Even as he walks back to his house with a slightly intoxicated Samuel, he cries. Shamefully, he realizes that he isn't crying for his mother, but because he thinks Caleb has found his queen. Why did Ben ever think it could be him one day? This isn't one of his books. Caleb and he will never even be a tragedy.

Ben thinks himself a footnote in the story of Caleb's life, whereas Caleb constitutes the most important aspect of his. The only one he thinks worth mentioning, when he thinks about what he would write about his life.

+

Susannah dies a few weeks later, leaving Ben with a delicate necklace that he never takes off and kind implorations that he will take care of himself. It is a very pretty thing, silver and adorned with a small blue stone where the two beams of the cross meet. On the backside, his father inscribed the family name when he gifted it to his then young wife. _Tallmadge_. He runs his thumb over the lettering repeatedly, the sensation calms him a little.

Ben isn't sure what exactly she is asking of him when she tells him to be careful. "I am careful," he insists, "I've never gotten into trouble." Susannah takes his hand. She has the same blue eyes as Ben does, now full of worry and motherly love. Ben is a good child any mother would be proud of. So devout and obedient, kind-hearted and charitable. But she worries because she knows her son like only a mother can. 

  
"Be careful with Caleb," she urges, voice weak and unsteady.

Ben casts his eyes to the floor, clutching the necklace and crying desperately as his mother's eyes close forever.

 

+

 

The first time Ben prays for Caleb happens like this:

It is the morning after running to the Brewster house in the middle of a storm and shoving his mother's necklace into Caleb's hand. Ben wakes up with a sore throat and a stuffy nose. He finds himself reaching out to clutch something that is no longer around his neck. The absence of the cross weighs heavy against his chest, but he is convinced he gave it to the right person. Caleb needs someone to look out for him. He knows Caleb hasn't prayed once since his parents passed, years ago. "If the man in the clouds really gave a damn about us, Benny, he would take care of us whether or not we plead with him," Caleb dismisses whenever Ben asks him about it. There's always an excuse at the ready, but none of them convince Ben.

So he gets on his knees, faces the rising sun, and prays for his friend. First he gets all the formalities out of the way, praying for his mother's peace, for his family, for those less fortunate. Then he begins talking about Caleb, mumbling quietly. 

_He needs you, good father. He has no one out there to pray for him. Please protect him._

His father walks in on him, smiles a little, and then hustles him back into bed. It turns into a routine. Ben prays for Caleb at least three times a day, sometimes more. He receives no word of his well-being. Not a single letter for six months.

Then Caleb appears on the hill as Ben sits outside his father's church, reading his favorite greek work, untranslated. His greek has gotten better, he can read it quite smoothly now. In fact he has no trouble translating for Caleb when he asks Ben to read to him.Those hours make up some of Ben's happiest memories as Caleb makes himself comfortable, head resting against Ben's thighs as he listens, eyes closed and smiling. He doesn't fall asleep as Ben suspects. When Ben takes a break, certain Caleb has long moved on, the whaler cracks one eye open expectantly.

"I do hope that's not the end," he threatens, "If it is that is a shitty way to end a story, just as the cyclops is about to eat him." Ben laughs a little. "I didn't think you were still listening."

"It's a good book," Caleb shrugs, by way of explanation. Ben ignores the way his treacherous heart gives out when Caleb beams up at him once he continues.

 

When Caleb leaves this time around, Ben vows to hold him to his promise to write, even if it is just a short note that says 'still alive. Love, Caleb'.

"Only if you promise to pray for me," Caleb teases. Ben agrees fervently.

 

+

 

The first time Ben realizes that no one can realistically push Caleb from centerstage in his mind happens like this:

He is sixteen, pressed against a door and feverishly kissing a fifteen year old Nathan Hale. Nathan's hands are everywhere and Ben feels feather-light.

( _How can this be wrong, good father?_ Ben begs the heavens to explain as he pulls Nathan closer by his waistcoat.)

But even as the kisses grow more passionate, Ben's mind drifts to Caleb. Years ago he happened upon Caleb in a similar state. He remembers the noise Caleb made when he draws a similar one out of the depths of Nathan's throat. Would Ben be able to get a noise like this out of Caleb, if he tried? Would Caleb push him away before he ever had the chance?

The thought that Caleb frequently does this with plenty of willing women urges Ben to thread his hand through Nathan's hair and pull him closer still. He tries to forget about Caleb, he really does. If only it worked. 

He feels guilty, knowing that he thought of Caleb even as Nathan gave all of himself to him, poured everything he has into their union. Caleb, Caleb, Caleb, his mind screams, giving him a headache that leaves him wanting to avoid Nathan as best as he can. Still his thoughts grow louder. His mind knows that the person he is kissing isn't Caleb, no matter how much he wants it to be. Nathan can never be Caleb. It doesn't stop him from trying.

And Nathan is sweet. He and Ben exchange books with one another, they go on long walks around the city, they drink together. They share their bodies with one another. They take pleasure in one another. And all the while, Caleb remains, burned into Ben's mind for eternity. Nathan never becomes a part of the stories Ben imagines himself in. 

Nathan understands, finally, when he watches Ben's face light up as he receives the first letter Caleb has ever sent him. It is like an epiphany to the poor boy when he watches Benjamin open the envelope with a neutrally curious face only to see it change into the most breathtaking vision of happiness when he begins reading.

 _Write me, Bennyboy_ , Caleb urges him in it. _I can't stand not to hear from you for so long. Tell me about Yale, please._   _Tell me about the marvellous things you must have experienced there_.

Enclosed is a short quote from the Odyssey. Ben is surprised he remembers it, more so when he reads that Caleb purchased the book himself and finished it. A fickle hope that Caleb may have felt what Ben did when he read it fights it's way into Ben's mind. It can't be.

Caleb doesn't think about Ben that way. He never has, he never will. Ben isn't Caleb's Queen, no matter the story.

 

"Caleb," Nathan nods, realization apparent on his face. Sunlight comes through the windows this early in the day and Nathan looks lovely, cheeks flushed but eyes hard.

"Yes, a friend from Setauket," Ben explains as his fingers play a little with Nathan's pale blond hair. "He's a whaler. I hardly ever hear from him." The letter excites Ben beyond reason. Already he is planning the reply in his head.

"A friend," Nathan raises an eyebrow, "Of course." His voice is a little bitter. It makes Ben interrupt thoughts of _Caleb, Caleb, Caleb_ for just a second.

"Yes," Ben agrees, confused now, "He's my brother's best friend. That is all." The lie feels shameful coming out of his mouth, but no one has ever questioned his friendship with Caleb before. Everyone always accepted it as a fact set in stone. This skepticism is new and it makes Ben nervous. 

He has never confessed his feelings to anyone but God himself. That he has not yet been struck down makes Ben hope that perhaps, like the loving father scripture makes him out to be, God has seen past his flaws and accepted him as his child anyway. Ben would like nothing more than certain reassurance from above, but each time he prays he feels a warmth overtake him that makes him feel loved. It is enough.  

 

"Benjamin," Nathan sighs, exasperated, "You say his name in your sleep every night."

Ben, up until now unaware of his nocturnal confessions, stammers out something, anything, to acquit himself. A few seconds pass, until quietly, he only manages to swallow, looking at Nathan sadly. He wants to plead with him, wants him to stay, wants to reassure Nathan that this is fine.

Caleb would never think of me like that. The words are on the tip of his tongue before he realizes that it doesn't matter to Nathan if Caleb loves Ben. It wouldn't matter if Ben didn't love Caleb.

Nathan leaves what Ben has come to think of as _their_ bed, gets dressed, and they never kiss again. Ben suspects Nathan would like to, but whenever they get close enough Nathan will ask how Caleb is doing and watch with grim resignation as Ben's eyes inevitably betray him every time. He tries. By god, he tries to see Nathan the way he desperately wants to. But anytime he thinks about kissing Nathan, his head will start screaming _Caleb, Caleb, Caleb_ , like a cruel taunt that reminds him of his insurmountable feelings. 

Caleb visits Ben in New Haven at the most convenient time. Ben knows it has been years. His shallow hope that his childhood crush may have lessened in intensity even slightly is destroyed when he sees Caleb hoist himself off the boat, strong, tanned arms and freckled skin, jokingly taking his hat off to greet Ben before pulling him into a bear hug that leaves Ben ready to cry from happiness. These new images of Caleb replace the ones he had been holding onto in his head. A full beard now, long and messy, a sun-tanned face. The same devious smile, now with the first laughter lines around his beautiful brown eyes.

He looks at Caleb all night, never even noticing Alicia, the barmaid that insists on flirting with him every time he comes in. 

Caleb looks back at him, never takes his eyes off of him. It astounds Ben that Caleb listens to him so intently. Is that what Ben used to look like, when they were kids? Eyes filled with a spark of curiosity and unfeigned fascination? It can't have been. Ben was already in love with Caleb then, even if back then his love was more innocent. Now he admits, he isn't entirely altruistic when he invites Caleb to share his bed. He wants to feel Caleb's proximity. In his sleep, Caleb turns over to wrap his arms around Ben tightly and Ben can't contain the content sigh that escapes him. If Caleb notices, he doesn't say anything.

That is until something stirs in Caleb's slacks, pushing insistently at Ben's thigh. Nathan too was prone to nocturnal bouts of desire, and Ben isn't naive enough to think of Caleb's erection as anything other than a product of months at sea, without a woman's touch. Still, he allows himself to pretend, allows himself to push back against it, just slightly, until it slides against him more firmly. It wakes Caleb up with a confused groan and Ben panics, pretending to be soundly asleep despite knowing that if Caleb took just a second to concentrate, he could hear Ben's heart beating out of control. Caleb detangles himself from Ben and gets up. Ben tries not to let his heart shatter too obviously.

 _Forgive me, good father, for my impure thoughts_ , he prays once Caleb has left. 

 

+

 

The first time that Ben wants to tell Caleb he loves him goes like this:

It is only a day after the thunderstorm interrupted what should have been their first kiss. Ben was nervous beyond reason. Only through sheer force of will did he avoid running away to hide. Unavoidable entirely were the goosebumps he felt when Caleb leaned in close enough for their breaths to mingle. Thunder didn't stop Ben from wanting to chase his lips. Only when rain befell them did Ben reconsider. He didn't sleep that night, debating whether or not Caleb would let him through the window if he went to see him.

The next morning Ben waits for Caleb at the docks to see him off. "Sleep well, Tallboy?" Caleb asks, as they watch the sloop sail into sight to pick Caleb up and spirit him away to high seas. "Not as well as I could have," Ben scratches the back of his head.

(He omits to add that he would have slept better with Caleb curled around him, fondly remembering a single night in New Haven where he relished his touch all night.)

"Well," Caleb shifts on his feet, a little awkward and having trouble looking at Ben's eyes. "I guess I'm off."

"Caleb," Ben says softly, reaching for the whaler's hand even though he should know better. Now Caleb does meet his eyes and Ben's heart lurches. There is pain in those eyes, anguish so apparent that Ben backpedals. He gapes, lips parted and trying to think of something to say that will not push him further away. "Yes, Ben?" Caleb asks, a little terse, a little hopeful. His fingers interlace with Ben's, a secretive little touch in broad daylight that makes Ben gasp, barely audible.

I love you. I love you. I love you. Why will his tongue not give up the words? 

"Come back safe."

(Come back to me, he wants to say.)

"Of course," Caleb smiles tenderly and pulls him in for a hug. Ben can't resist touching his lips to Caleb's temple in what could theoretically be interpreted as a kiss, if the touch weren't so soft. "Promise me," he whispers, feeling Caleb shiver in his embrace.

"If you'll start praying for me again, I promise I'll come back to you."  
As if Ben ever stopped his prayers.

 

+

The first time Ben actually tells Caleb he loves him, Caleb isn't awake to hear it.

They are sharing a cot for the night as the cold winter air forces them together within camp. Caleb is snoring, leaving Ben unable to find respite. Caleb is covered in grime and dirt. The former whaler-turned-lieutenant hasn't been willing to do battle with the cold water to clean himself up after returning from a scouting mission with his boat.

  
"I am glad you're back, Caleb," Ben whispers, more to himself. Caleb can't hear him, that's for sure. But it feels good to say it, finally, after all these years. "I was so worried while you were gone. I'm always worried. You're so confident in your tradecraft, but I swear my heart couldn't take losing you. I've never told you this, Caleb, but as god is my witness I have wanted to, more than I can count. I almost gave in and wrote the words to you, if only to get them out. I'm not sure you'd like to hear them, truthfully. But since you can't really here them right now, I feel safe to admit it: I love you."

Ben huffs out a happy little breath when the words spill out. "I love you." He repeats once more. The words aren't heavy on his tongue, they feel light and he succumbs to silent giggles as he repeats the words at least ten more times. In the morning Ben leaves with his dragoons and falls prey to Robert Rogers.

Caleb. He thinks as he awakens to the sound of a bayonet robbing one of his youngest soldiers of his life. Caleb will never know how much I loved him. Caleb has to know. He has to be made aware. His name is like a beat in his head, ordering him to keep moving, to ignore the throbbing in his shoulder. Run. Just run. Run to Caleb. 

Somehow Ben makes it back to camp. During the night he wants to tell Caleb. He thinks he does, but he is feverish so he can't be sure. Caleb's attitude is unchanged come the morning, and Ben resigns himself to the fact that he probably didn't manage to get the words out after all. His throat always closes up just before the crucial moments. The fear that Caleb will push him away is too great, although Ben clearly remembers Caleb leaning in towards him that night he tried to kiss him. 

+

Ben wants to say it again after Caleb pulls him out of the icy river. He wants to say it again when Caleb stays by his side day after day, taking care of him and all the while talking to make sure he stays awake and stays alive. He doesn't get it out.

"Happy new year, Tallboy," the cheerful relief in Caleb's voice is touching. I love you. It should be easy to say. 

"Where are the men?" He says instead, voice rough and raspy.

 

+

Finally, when he does admit to it, he is crying in the middle of a snow-covered forest, Caleb leaning against him and shaking. Ben is scared. He doesn't expect Caleb to echo his words. Somehow he does. God only knows how on earth it happened, but Caleb loves him too. 

Ben resigned himself to the fact that he and Caleb will never be one of his many stories. Now it doesn't matter. There is no need for stories when this is his new reality. 

The first kiss takes him by surprise. It isn't demanding, like he thought Caleb would be. Caleb's lip is quivering against him even as Ben pulls him in closer. 

Only when some days later they are curled up together on a hard army cot does Ben realize that Caleb has been in love with him for years as well. 

"We're quite the pair, aren't we?" Ben muses as Caleb's head rests on his chest. He receives an embarrassed scoff in reply. "And to think I spent years imagining you as the hero of my stories instead of telling you." For the life of him, he cannot figure out why Caleb suddenly starts giggling into his chest. The enquiry fades into oblivion when Caleb kisses him again. 


End file.
